A Little Exposed
Not again, not again, fucking Christ not again... First my brother, now Mom, killed in cold blood by...them. Shit man, we really should have gotten away from here long ago, after my bastard of a little brother left after our OWN brother died! This is all my fault man, I ain't no saint, just like everyone else in this crazy city. Man, I should have known this was going to happen, they should have taken me down, but, I got lucky, or rather unfortunate. Don't get me wrong, the city right now is a war zone, I've seen death all around me, even some by the hands of me actually, but really, when it comes to family, I'm really running out of people to call family now, other than a father that God knows where is, a sister hanging around with the wrong kind, and a good for nothing little brother. I have my friends and other people in the neighborhood. Just some dumb muscle in bandanas, but the two I have left, a fat buster, and a dopey idiot who dabbles in a bit of a variety of “party favors”, we are still alright, but at times like this, I can't trust anyone. I've been seeing and hearing lots of shit around the whole state these days, crooked cops, the talk of the rate of drugs about to skyrocket, even my own crew is pestering me about all of this, saying we can really benefit from selling this crap, but I ain't touching any of that with a ten-foot pole, but what really bothers me, is that the fact I feel...a little exposed. Ever since all of this stuff I've been hearing about, we are losing more people to gangs than ever, all of our allies gone, family friends dead. I swear I visit the cemetery 5 times a month these days. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm next, a small street crew of small time troublemakers really isn't hard to decode the major people behind it, so everyday, I feel like I'm being watched. From burger joints to even on the sidewalks downtown, I feel like it's a bit uncomfortable to see these, men in colored do-rags on the corners or in a car passing by. Knowing the city itself is about as crooked as a dog's hind leg, I would deal with the problem myself, but with the rise of police force these days in constant criminal up rising, I don't think it would be best. I tried calming down the past few days, just staying at home, or at least on our street, only people around me were the idiot friends I hold dear and my little sister. I decided after a day or two I shouldn't hide away inside, it's not like me to just hide away like this, even my sister was concerned for me at this point, so I did leave the house now and then to relax with the gang, take the tension off all of this crazy shit happening as of late, but that really didn't help whatsoever. Playing basketball, shooting craps, and watching MTV Raps still couldn't calm my nerves. I was just so paranoid, I just had the feeling, that these people we're after me as well. But everything just changed now...it all started after one night like this, just hanging out, over a game of craps, the fat bastard was just going on and on about all this drug nonsense, and then the wannabe hard guy comes in the scene soon after, so I decide it's a good time to bounce for the rest of the afternoon. Me and my sister left soon after to go get something for dinner tonight, by that, meaning eat some greasy and disgusting slices of pizza a few blocks away. Half of a pie and a fight with a worker about a wrong order later, walking out of the store, all we see, is a zoom of something green in the distance, so fast we can't even see it. Shrugging it off, me and my sister are just up the block when we hear, popping, like, gunshots. It was coming from the house, we had to run, but that seemed like a bad idea, they were already done there and they were coming up the block. Me and my sister hid behind a fence from whatever it was, which turned out to be a car, but, what happened? A drive by? We went back to the house in a rush to see what happened, and what did, was shocking. We found our mother there, on the porch, dead, a bullet straight through the head, others all around her, in the stomach, arm, shoulders, I couldn't look at this. My sister was screaming at the top of her lungs and crying, I had to calm her down, myself crying as well...our mom is...dead. We had to clean the scene up and we had to figure out what to do with a corpse of our fucking dead mother! It's on the couch for now, hopefully the cops don't come over to investigate the shooting anytime soon...I can't take this anymore...I gotta call my brother, assuming he gives two shits about more of his family gone. -Call Transmission- “Sup?” “Carl, it's Sweet.” “Sup Sweet! Whatchu' want?” “It's Momma, she's dead bro.” Category:Creepypasta Category:Video Games Category:Video Game Category:Creepypastas Category:Original Story